


Tea At 2AM

by starryeyedhomicide



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst i guess??, Established Relationship, M/M, blood mention, crowley has a nightmare and az is there to comfort him, enjoy, i wrote this at midnight and literally didn’t stop writing til id finished, self-indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedhomicide/pseuds/starryeyedhomicide
Summary: Crowley wakes in the night and Aziraphale is by his side to calm him down. He’ll always be by his side.





	Tea At 2AM

**Author's Note:**

> to quote james acaster:  
starting making it, had a breakdown, bon appetite!!  
self-indulgent nonsense

_ He didn’t know where he was, but he was falling. _

_ Falling through a blank sky, falling into a deep void. _

_ As he fell, pictures danced just out of his reach: _

_ Aziraphale, holding his hand and smiling- _

_ Perhaps the falling wasn’t so bad _

_ Aziraphale, watching him garden- _

_ He started to feel a breeze rushing through his body _

_ Aziraphale, looking confused- _

_ A wind started to pick up now, swirling about his head _

_ Aziraphale, his eyes filled with tears _

_ There was a definite roaring in his ears _

_ Aziraphale, bloodied and bruised- _

_ He fell faster and faster _

_ Aziraphale, broken. _

_ He hit the ground hard. _

Crowley gasped awake, sitting jolt upright. Sweat poured down his back and he shivered and blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was in bed, sheets curled around his legs. He noticed how long they were, and how pale they looked in the darkness. His hands were trembling, and he clenched his fists to make them stop, to no avail. Unclenching them, he realised his wings were out and brushing the tips of the ceiling - he’d unfolded them completely involuntarily. Soft shadows danced on the walls and as he came to he realised someone was calling his name.

“Crowley? Oh goodness, what was it?” Aziraphale was there, in bed, next to him. He let out a shuddery breath and hugged the angel tightly, blinking back tears. He was okay. Aziraphale was okay. He folded his wings in unconsciously and took a deep breath. 

“The nightmares again, was it?” He sighed in understanding and patted the demon’s back reassuringly. His hand moved gently to the nape of Crowley’s neck and stroked cautiously through his hair, calming him down through repetition of movement.

“I’m here, my dear boy. I’m alright, no one is going to hurt us. We’re safe.”

Crowley screwed up his eyes and then widened them, adjusting to the low light and slowly letting go of Aziraphale. The lamp next to their bed was on, and a copy of W.H. Auden’s poems lay in his lap. Their bed. Still hard getting his head around that.

He blew out a breath and thought carefully. There were too many words inside his head to fit out of his mouth so he went with the simplest ones he could find.

“Good book?” he croaked, voice sore from sleep. Aziraphale smiled almost sadly, turning his gaze away to look at the well-preserved book but keeping his hands intertwined with Crowley’s.

“Very.  _ As I Walked Out One Evening _ gets me every time. He was a man beyond his time…” Aziraphale’s eyes turned misty as they did when he was talking about literature he loved, but shaking his head he banished the thoughts. There were more important things at hand.

“I think I’ll make some tea. Stay here, love, I’ll be right back.”

Crowley did not point out that it was - he checked the clock - 2:41am, or that people did not drink tea during the night, or that Aziraphale could simply miracle them some. He just nodded, gave a small smile and lay back. Glancing out the window, he looked at the full moon and sky scattered with stars, like someone had thoughtlessly dropped them as if marbles onto the floor. He knew that it was far more complicated than that, of course, and if he squinted he could figure out which ones he made, but that gave him a headache, so he stopped trying. Looking at his arm, he hazily remembered when his skin was like the sky too; patterned with stars and almost glowing. But then they burnt out in the fall and turned dark, much like his wings. He never liked them, but Aziraphale had once drunkenly confessed (to his later embarrassment) that he thought his freckles were “Positively adorable!”, and after that he took a little pride in them.

Listening to Aziraphale potter around downstairs, he smiled. His heart gave a soft, affirming thump. He loved Aziraphale so much, more than life itself, and now he was free to say it. It was just… hard to believe sometimes. Hard to believe that they were lucky. Hard to believe that he loved him back. Hard to believe this was part of Her plan. And all of this doubt had built over millennia, resulting in a demon who was a lot more anxious than he gave off - who had the occasional night terror.

Before, he’d got through them alone, go onto the balcony and feel the cool night air on his skin, maybe even fly up to the heavens - but not literally. Just high enough that the tears would freeze on his skin and he could forget about them. But now there was an angel to help him through the night, a warm hand on his arm to remind him he wasn’t alone. His cheeks flushed with an emotion that he had trouble defining. Happiness? No, but he was happy whenever he was with Aziraphale. Love? Not quite, but his heart took care of that.

Oh.

_ Gratitude _ .

Aziraphale had saved him more times than he could count - and not just from himself. He was lost in thought about everything he’d done for him when he heard the quiet creak of stairs and huffing of breath. Speak of the- never mind.

Here he was, in all his glory. Moonlight casting an ethereal blue glow on him from one side, soft lamplight giving him a yellow tone from the other, he looked, well, like an angel.

“Here’s your tea. I made it with sugar, but not too much. I don’t want to keep you up.” As Aziraphale spoke he gave Crowley a knowing look - he’d been caught staring, so averted his eyes and blushed. The bed sank as he sat in it and passed the cup to the demon, who drank deeply. There are few things in life tea can’t solve.

They talked for a while longer, and Crowley finished his tea. Settling back into bed, Aziraphale turned off the lamp, leaving only the light of the moon streaming through the window. Crowley closed his eyes and listened to the soft breathing of the angel and just felt in love. His heart was so full, but so tired, and its eyelids began drooping. Soon the eyes to his heart closed too, and he was at rest. But before he dropped off, he tried with all his might to mentally send a message to Aziraphale. To say how much he appreciated all he’d done for him, how much he meant to him and how much he loved him. It was long, and full of emotion, but could be summed up in two simple words.

_ Thank you. _

**Author's Note:**

> im writing this to get over a shitty relationship so some - most - all of it was projection lmao  
hope yall enjoyed!! comment or ill pour river water in your shoes  
tumblr @starryeyedhomicide


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